After unfastening all her hair, he unexpectedly held them and said, "Aren't you going out for wool and coming home sheared?"
The fire in Irish rose again. Moving her head, the strand of long hair slipped from his fingers, "Actually, my psychological quality was weaker than yours on such a thing."
Without saying a word, Joseph looked down at her. Her heart was uneasy within his range. When she pushed him away and planned to go into the living room, he suddenly put his hand on the wall and blocked her way. Rolling her eyes, Irish prepared to go from the other side, but his hand followed and blocked her again.
His two legs totally obstructed her path.
"Are you crazy?" Irish lifted her head to stare at him, trying to make her voice calm.
"I suddenly thought that I hadn't answered your questions." Joseph lifted his lips slowly. "What did you ask again? Which one do I prefer, the active girl or the one needed to be fucked?"
